Agile – 1905

They are the enemy – a most hated foe. They have chosen a side and it is not ours. No matter what I try, no matter where I turn – there they are always waiting, watching, and learning. They beat everything I throw at them. It is infuriating! Why can they not see that resistance is useless!? How dare they fight and rail against the regal leader of Spectra!? I will one day prevail! Regardless of my willingness and emotional need to capture one, preferably all, of G-Force – they are too fast. They are as slippery as eels. They are too Agile.

Sir Huon – 1906

These stuffy scientist types are completely insane! I will never truly understand them. Despite that, I still need them. I cannot figure all this out alone. They must study, learn, build, rebuild, redesign, and make the things I need indestructible. Some of these people must be found and brought here, at times by force. I must have them to do my bidding. One such person continues to elude me, no matter what I try. But one day soon, I will be successful in attaining his services. And when I do, we will poison the Earth together – Sir Huon and I!

Pink Star – 1907

On outward appearances, she is sweet, nurturing, and nearly fragile. Perhaps, fragile isn't an appropriate descriptor. Genteel is more apt. However, go near her teammates with the intent to do them harm and you will awake a tigress. Claws at the ready and teeth gnashing, she will force you to rethink your decision, your choice in starting this particular dispute. She is quick, smart, and can outfight anyone including men three times her size. After a clash and once home, she calms: finding her center and her strength. I so admire the young woman she has become – our Pink Star.

Stone Street – 1908

The day is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. It's nearly noon now as I amble along watching people go about their day – folks out jogging, walking their dogs, or taking strolls. To think a few weeks ago I didn't have the energy to get out of bed. I'm rediscovering the simple things in life again and realize just how lucky I am. The friends I have, the comrades I have full trust in. They keep me in line – sometimes to the point of aggravation. But everything is good. Because of them and their care, I can enjoy this walk on Stone Street.

Wintergreen – 1909

Hope is so powerful. Hope tells us that anything is possible and that the situation will improve. Life marches on no matter what – whether I am here or not. Every dawn gives me new hope that this will be a better day; my life will not be a complete waste of time and energy. I admit I could have made wiser choices. But it's too late, my path is now set before me and I must exert every effort to improve my lot. As the snow begins to fall before my eyes, I realize I must stand as a Wintergreen.

Donau – 1910

Another beautiful area trampled by tanks and crushed beyond recognition. I hate how this war has turned with the use of guerilla tactics. When we dealt with Berg Katse, we knew what we were getting just about every time: big, ugly mechs. But this guy is so unpredictable, I feel as if we are the blind leading the blind. I can only stand here numb while this once rich land lies smoldering with black smoke wafting into the sky. If only we can undo the damage wrought. If only we could turn back time and stop this carnage in Donau.

Meridian – 1911

Here we go again on another mission into the wild black yonder. Our friends from Spectra are at it again – death, destruction, and mayhem. Turn our backs for five minutes and they launch some monstrosity on a planet, city, or any other place that has anything of value. They want to steal whatever it is and use it for their own twisted purposes. We're the only ones standing between them and total galactic domination. Some would think it is a great burden. Sometimes it is, but always worth it. Never mind that, I have to prepare to cross the Meridian.

Worth – 1912

Sometimes I wonder why I put up with any of it: the team, the challenges, and this sorry war – a war that includes all the arguments, the teasing, the never-ending training, and the impossible orders. Well, impossible isn't fair. We are never sent deliberately on suicide missions, maybe by accident but never on purpose. That is more than I can say for our green goon adversaries. They're nothing more than cannon fodder at times. I find myself sometimes wondering about their individual fates in the fleeting and rare quiet moments we have. And I find myself asking: what's their Worth?

Donerail – 1913

I've never been a fan of trains. Sure, the trip's usually relaxing as long as the scenery isn't blurring by. Seems there is always somebody building a new line on Earth. I read up on some of the latest and greatest ideas in the newspaper and I can only shake my head at them. Outlandish is a good descriptor for a bunch of these ideas. There are some places a train isn't meant to transverse. I don't care how much weight it can pull. It's above my pay grade, I guess. Who knows, perhaps one day I'll ride the Donerail.

Old Rosebud – 1914

Gorgeous summer afternoons: the sun is out without a cloud in the sky and grass blades sway in the breezes. I relish the warmth and breathe in the fresh air. All is right in the world until I catch a sweet fragrance in the air. Roses. But it's not sweet for me. I'm not sure why they make me uneasy, tense. Every time it happens I find myself at a loss. Is it a long buried memory? Perhaps I'm too paranoid for my own good but then again, maybe not. One day I will solve the mystery of Old Rosebud.